


A Rock and an Immovable Object

by hrewannabe



Series: A Feeling I've Never Felt Before [9]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Deception, Fake Science, Gen, Politics, planning on fighting the sabbat?, questionable science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 09:37:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrewannabe/pseuds/hrewannabe
Summary: Elder Mace has a meeting with the Baron of WaynesboroorNewly made Baron Nike has to meet with an Elder that's threatened her girl, and see what he wants.





	1. Mace is...Mace

**Author's Note:**

> Soft blurb: Mace arrives in Waynesboro with the Staunton Scourge to meet with the Baron after arranging a meeting through Stan.
> 
> No Nike until the end of this chapter, but the next one will be from her perspective.

The parking lot of Benny’s Bar and Pub is almost empty. A large man wearing bdu pants, a beat up Kevlar vest, and a black t-shirt underneath is standing in the parking lot next to a beat up van. A tall willowy woman stands beside him, two long scars cross her face. He makes his way to the door, the blonde woman a step behind him. The door looks out of place compared to the rest of the bar, new and shiny, a dull red color. He opens the door and walks in, surveys the room.

The bar is low lit, there’s a single lonely pool table with five large scratches going down its side. Three tables and a couple of chairs are spread out around the room, the back of the room is home to a long bar, a door is set behind it as well. Out of the door walks a tall African-American man carrying a table. “Ah Mace, glad to see you made it! My Baron apologizes for the mess. We’re remodeling.” He strides further into the room, sits down the table and extends a hand. Mace gives the room a good look, takes in the layout and notes the signs of a bar recovering from a full blown fight. The thin woman gives a giggle and bounds after Mace, giving the room little thought and takes the offered handshake before Mace can.

“Stan! Good to see you again. Sorry about the whole Istabon thing ya know” and Stan grimaces. The two quickly launch into a full conversation as the bulky square Brujah walks around the room, looking for clues as too was fighting. When he’s done he walks back over, catches the tail end of their conversation. “-that was fun, remember? You should come visit more often.” And the blonde stills, looking away and towards Mace, Stan looks up as well. When the large man says nothing the two continue their conversation.

“I think I’m fine staying in Waynesboro Hattie, not everyone finds getting their fingers smashed entertaining.” Stan swings their head to look at Mace. “That aside, the Baron should be ready in a couple of minutes. I didn’t know you’d be bringing Hattie so she’ll have to wait out here.” Hattie grins, and Mace frowns.

“It was the Prince’s orders for her to come. Not Mine. I’m ready whenever the Baron is ready.”

“I’ll ask the Baron if Hattie may accompany you, I’ll be right back.”

“If she can’t accompany me, then I will meet the Baron alone.” Stan waves a hand in acknowledgement, and is exiting through the back door.

Once he’s gone Hattie starts to look around the open room. She spends time looking at the almost bare walls, trails fingers along the countertop of the bar before heading to the lone pool table. She’s dragging a hand down the large scratch when Stan pokes his head through the door. “The Baron says that the Scourge must wait out here, you can follow me” he gestures to Mace.

Mace turns to Hattie, smug satisfaction lingering in his words “well, looks like you can play a game of pool or two.” He moves to follow Stan, leaving the Malkavian to her own devices doesn’t turn to see the frown lingering on her face at his words. She turns and goes back to inspecting the scratch on the pool table.

Stan leads Mace through the door and then down a set of stairs where only a single doorway sits. Stan approaches the door and gives a sharp knock. “Baron the Brujah from Staunton is here. Elder Mace.”

“Bring him in.” A harsh, clear voice rings out. Stan opens the door, leans into Mace’s space and whispers.

“Good luck” before swinging the door closed behind him.

Mace strolls in, shoulders wide. He spots the only figure in the room. A woman who looks to be in her early twenties. Her hair is pulled back in an intricate braided ponytail, lacy bralette peeking out from under a white lab coat. Around her set up around the room are various pieces of equipment, a centrifuge, some Bunsen burners, glass of various shapes and sizes. Some larger, more intricate set-ups lurk further back in the room. She sits at a card table, smoke from a cigarette lazily wafting up into the air. An empty seat is pulled out across from her.


	2. You Should See me in a Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nike entertains Elder Mace of Staunton. Not that she wants too, but because she has too.

She’s in the lab has the equipment running one last batch before she has to turn it over into a distillery. She has a promise to keep after all, even if she’s breaking it right now, she still intends to keep it. Wants so badly to keep the promise but, they’re weak right now and she’ll do her best to protect her girl. The threat of an Elder from the Tower being in her territory makes her nervous, makes her high strung, she doesn’t want to let her girl down, but she has too to make sure she’s safe. After this she'll restart the process of weening her way off of the stimulants. She moves away from the equipment to sit down at the card table, lights a cigarette and forces herself to breathe.

“Baron, the Brujah from Staunton is here. Elder Mace.” Stan’s voice emerges through the door and Nike cringes, doesn’t want to meet with him, with this man that had so easily threatened Becca earlier this summer, who had threatened the both of them without ever even meeting her. She had heard the rumors and what he had said from Mari and from the Keeper of Elysium in Staunton. She wonders if he’ll recognize her.

“Bring him in.” and a big man is swaggering through the door, Stan makes a face of disgust once the other man has passed through the door and Nike has to stop herself from smiling. She puts on a disinterested face that she had seen Lavender wear, and watches him make his way over and sit in the only other seat in the room. She continues too  smoke, has to not show any signs of weakness, can’t let the man know how scared, how worried she is that he’ll recognize her, that he’ll figure out the plan. They’re only safe if no one knows who has control in Waynesboro. She keeps quiet, the first to break the silence is impatient. She remembers that rule well. He breaks the silence first. It’s nice to know that the man is easily ruffled if a few seconds of silence are all it takes.

“So, I guess we are just going to sit in awkward silence until one of us gets hungry” the man questions, one hand resting on the table. 

“Perhaps” she tells him blowing smoke in his direction. “Still you came to me, I assumed you would inform me of the reason of _your_ visit _Elder_ Mace.”

She watches him blink away the smoke. She knows his lungs wont be affected, but it's always nice to watch uptight men try not to blink. “well I have a few reason.” Nike tries not to perk up, a few reason? Really. “I originally came here to make amends between the two sects but from what Stan told me both the movement and ivory tower in this area should be on equal terms now since Lavender has been taken out of the picture” Mace tell her a serious look on his face and Nike wants to laugh. This man, comes into her territory wanting to make peace, figures that they’re on equal footing just because Lavender is dusted?

“So what do you want _now_. I don’t have time to reminisce about Lavender or former ties, be quick I have a state to run.” Nike props her feet up on the table, wants to be as calm as she appears, but she’s not. Figures as long as he thinks she’s calm and in control he’ll be an easy play.  Watches the man’s eyes track the movement of her feet, hands clinched close to his jacket. _So he’s armed_.

“I wanted to see if the movement was interested in helping the ivory tower to take down the Sabbat in Charlottesville, but also, from what Stan told me you have a bigger problem than Sabbat potentially poaching your people.” He leans back into his chair and settles, a smug look on his face. The look makes Nike want to grab him by the back of his square head and slam his face onto the card table until the man’s face is nothing more than sludge. She can’t do that though, she has to be polite to him, and she’s not just an enforcer anymore. She’s not a pawn, or someone’s childer, instead now she’s a Baron. She has to stay in control. She takes another drag from the cigarette.

“We are always interested in combating the Sabbat” she leans further backwards. “Their territory extends closer and closer to ours each day. The Baron of Afton worries about this as well, their border so close to ours. What does your… Prince, think about this proposition of working with Anarchs?” She wants to lean forward to better watch his face in the dim light of the lab, but she stays where she is.

“I’m the one who brought up the idea of mending relations and battling the Sabbat together. She supports it.”

“Really? I didn’t think she was interested in the Sabbat.” Arista had never mentioned Sabbat to her before, but the woman wasn’t to be trusted anyways. “Doesn’t she have better things to worry about than what happens a buffer state away? To be honest, I’m surprised the rest of your state doesn’t just want the Sabbat to deal with us, then your territory could stretch from Staunton to Charlottesville.” She pulls her legs down and leans closer to the table “or is that too much for a new Prince without her enforcer?”

Mace laughs, square face rippling as his mouth opens wide. “I’m not here to wage war on the movement, nor is the Staunton state. From what I’ve gathered nobody in the Camarilla wants the movement to leave Waynesboro. However if your movement falls to the Sabbat we’re next.” His laughter dies off as he considers the grim consequences to her state being wiped off the earth.

“Really” and she has to pause, has to stop and think. “I thought there was more bickering in the tower. Tell me, is your state really so terrified of the Sabbat? I mean, I know it’s a big deal, but…” Nike looks Mace over, looks at his clothing, knows that there must be muscle hiding under the man’s large frame. “We’re half the size of _your_ state. You and your Prince must have low expectations of the Tower’s own ability to defend itself.” She smiles, knows that he’s playing her as much as she’s playing him. “I _wonder_ if Harrisonburg or Lexington knows just how weak you are right now. I’m sure we’d get a far better deal with them.” She’s bluffing, but he doesn’t need to know that. They have no ties yet with Lexington and she doubts that the Prince of Harrisonburg will deal with them, old as she is.

His eyes narrow. “sure you can go to them, but do you think they will listen? You may be too far out for those states to care. Chances are they don’t have the same experiences that I have in killing them. This would be a good opportunity for you to recruit independents to the movement.” He looks satisfied with the words he has given her, back straight and eyes wide and gleeful like he’s caught her in a trap.

“That’s _true Elder_ Mace, but why would you want for independents to swing to our side? That doesn’t sound like a fair deal. Besides what’s to keep your state from decimating mine after the Sabbat are gone? Anarchs in this area can be hard to come by and Staunton’s kindred population is growing alongside its human one. What’s not to say that in a few years you and your benevolent Prince don’t turn their eyes upon my grounds and decide that Waynesboro would be a nice new addition for the tower?” She pauses and lights a new cigarette. “I don’t see what your state gains besides glory for killing Sabbat and territory and I’m not keen on being stuck between you all. _So_ what’s the real reason that you come to us?” she lowers the cigarette, watches his face twist and turn as he takes in her words.

“If you don’t want to help us that’s fine. If you want to tell the other states that because of a new prince and cleaning house in Staunton make us weak that’s fine too. But glory will show that we’re strong, and who says that it will only be us? Ivory Tower was built on teamwork. No different than the Anarchs. We would put a call out to the other holds for help, and whether they openly support the siege or not pups will come to help make a name for themselves” he finishes with a self-satisfied smirk. Nike wants to laugh, he just told her within the same breath that Harrisonburg and Lexington would not come, that it was too far and in the same says that other states will help them. She shakes her head, tries not to laugh.

“You’re not wrong there, but you must understand that I am a new baron. I do not have the allies that the others will have should this agreement go south, nor do I have the bodies. I can’t afford for those within my ranks to become cannon fodder. I’m not saying that I won’t join, just that I am seeing the whole picture.” She takes a drag from her cigarette and holds up a hand to keep him from speaking. Breathes out. “One does not ask for help because they need it in our society, they ask because they have plans.”

Mace nods his head. “I agree with you and I don’t blame you.”

Nike watches the way his eyes flick up, watches him trail his fingers across the card table and the light frost that settles and then melts at his touch. She takes her time thinking. Mulls over the benefits.

“We will join, Elder Mace on the premise that neither I nor your Prince get Charlottesville. Instead give it to a series of Anarch Barons and let the fight for territory. They’ll be too busy fighting over scrapes to trouble either of our states.” It’s a ploy to see how far his leash runs, to see how much Arista trusts him and how stupid he thinks she is as well as himself. The Anarch Barons would scramble for power and territory, but they would also easily settle after that time period.

“I will have to take your offer to the Prince before I can promise you anything” he tells her, fat tongue slipping out to wet his lips and she tries not to grimace.

“Then we will wait to decide if we rally with yours. I will not stand to have my state caught between two with only Afton to back us.” It’s a true statement because most of the area surround them is Camarilla, the closest Anarch states are Afton and the Lexington Anarchs who already fight with the Lexington Camarilla. They will have to stand together to weather the storm.

“Agreed.” He tells her with a smug look on his face and Nike feels the beast clamoring up and she frantically shoves it down. Has no time to deal with that, has no time to worry about how much she wants to slam his head into the floor when she needs to project the cool exterior of someone much more powerful and wiser than she is. “So I heard from Stan that ya’ll have a bigger issue than the Sabbot over the mountain.”

Nike fights a grimace. “We do. Haven’t _you_ ever tried to start a state, _Elder_ Mace? He was reffering to those tribulations.” Nike is smug at this, the fool thought he would get more out of her? Thought she would spill state secrets to him? Ha! Not likely.

“I thought ya’ll had a threat outside of restarting?” he’s eyebrows furrow, large meaty face drawing in making his eyes appear even smaller, they almost disappear.

“Everything is when you’re restarting. You coming here can easily been seen as one. I mean, for all I know you’re here to see how the state is coming along and report back to Arista. You even brought your state’s scourge.” She’s not wrong, she has every right to bite back at this comment. Wonders what he’ll say to save ass.

‘Yes and no. Yes, I brought the scourge cause I was told to not because I wanted. Yes, I will report on what we talked about pertaining to the Sabbat and No, I won’t report on anything else” he tells. Nike imagines that if he was still human, still alive that his chest would be heaving and his cheeks flushed red in anger. Instead he sits before her glaring, face pale. She is tiring of this and the stimulants are starting to wear off and it’s making her think about how she’s breaking her promise. The high from taking them is starting to blur, her arm is starting to hurt again, and she’s starting to regret her decision, but a small part of her still thinks it was the only viable solution. Still she needs to go ahead and get him out of here. At least so she can down the blood sitting in the cabinet before her next meeting and finally go home to her girl.

“Then is there any other business that brings you here today?” Nike tries not to grimace when he opens his mouth to speak.

“Yes there is. The Prince’s childer is missing along with a few others, would you have any information pertaining to their whereabouts?”

“The Prince’s childer? Becca? The Lion of Staunton? Not really…I mean I heard she came through here but I haven’t heard anything since.”

Nike wants to laugh! Becca, poor man must have a terrible memory, not to mention his ability to find out who and what they look like. Becca Anderson is safe. Far away from men like Mace or anyone that could potentially hurt her. Becca is asleep at home or curled up on the couch with Andro reading some political theory book or some odd novel complaining about the lack of her stinky cat. Becca Anderson is hers as much as Nike belongs to the stocky woman. Playing coy, playing as if she’s never meet her, acting like they aren’t here will give them extra time, will protect them from Kore and Eros.

Mace laughs. “The Lion of Staunton. That’s cute.” and Nike has to keep herself from lunging at the man. Becca earned that name.

“Well, have you seen her hair? I heard that the Lexington Brujahs are very fond of the name” she cracks a smile. The Lexington brats are extremely fond of the name, she likes watching them shrink back when they both walk through the door of their favorite haunts. “Have you ever seen her fight?” Nike asks leaning across the table, lets her fangs drop as she leans into his space.

“Fight or kill? I have seen the video that Stan has, which if I can have a copy of would be nice” he tells her. Nike almost laughs, Stan never showed him the video.

“Both, but Stan never showed you the video? Either way I can’t afford to have information like that leaking.”

“Is that what he old you? Well he started to show me then I looked away and asked him to send it to me. Thought it was too risky to watch out in the open.” Nike knows he’s egging her on, wants to see how fast she’ll snarl and ask to trade blows, but she has to recline in her chair, pulls out a new cigarette.

“Silly Stan you can never trust hold overs can you” she tells him fluttering her eyelashes, before looking down and sliding her mouth into a frown. “The main file has been deleted, unfortunately _someone_ spilled booze all over the recording system and we’ve lost the save.” It’s a lie that the blocky man probably wont catch her in and she feels no problem lying to his face.

“Except for the one Stan has…on a cellphone… in his possession which he wanted to show me ten minutes into meeting him outside of Staunton at a secret Anarch gathering.” Now he’s leaning onto the table, getting into her space.

“Perhaps Elder, Stan no longer has that phone” which is another lie, but Stan was egging him on, and if Mace thinks it was a secret meeting then let him believe so.

“If you say he doesn’t then he doesn’t” he assures her leaning back into his seat. Nike is tiring of this meeting, flicks ash onto the floor and looks towards the door. A sharp knocn resounds through the room and Stans deep voice is ringing out.

“Baron the Afton delegate is here with Starla.”

“Sounds like my welcome has ended. If you wanna get in touch with me here’s my number” the big Brujah tells her standing up from his seat and practically shoving a thin card at her, Nike gently takes it gripping it between to fingers. He turns to leave but looks back “Also Baron, did you know who I was before tonight?”

“Would it have mattered Elder Mace if I didn’t?” she asks still seated.

“Actually I would have felt like we would be on equal footing during out conversation. A new Baron not known to me and an elder Brujah not known to you. Also if you ever gain knowledge on Sabbat let me know, Maybe we can work something out” he tells her heading towards the door, sly smile on his lips.

“I’ll think about it” Nike tells him as he walks through the door.

“Sounds good to me.” The annoying man is gone, the door is still slightly open from where he didn’t close it and from the crack she can hear the man talking and then the soft sound of the Afton Baron, Ryer, talking.

Moments later a short, slightly chubby, well dressed freckled young man is walking into her lab.


	3. Good Bye Waynesboro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mace meets Afton Enforcer, chats with Hattie and heads home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no more Nike in this chapter

Mace is walking out the door, doesn’t glace behind himself. Instead he’s looking for who’s outside the door. Stan is standing there, behind him is a short, freckled male, long tawny hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Next to the shorter male is a tall woman with raven hair pulled back into a low ponytail, she’s almost as tall as Stan with her heels on and she gives Mace a hard look. Mace walks up to Stan and smirks. “Stan the man, let me know if you want to meet up, I like your hangout spot.”

“Sure thing man, sorry we couldn’t talk more” Stan tells him taking the card and sliding it into his shirt pocket. “Hattie’s waiting for you upstairs if you can find your way out.” Stan starts to usher in the Baron and Starla but the large man is pushing into their space.

“it’s all good” he tells Stan, before leaning further into the Baron’s space. “You both be careful and good luck.” The elder flashes them a smile and a thumbs up. Stan almost grimaces at the shorter, fatter man’s actions. Hopes that he isn’t compromising their work with Afton.

The Baron smiles a soft smile at Stan before turning to Mace and giving him a wide fanged smile, soft southern accent ringing through the hall and up the stairs. “Thank you” and he proceeds into the room. The raven haired woman looks Mace over, frowns and heads into the room thinking him a fool. Mace gives them little thought after that and heads upstairs.

When he climbs the stairs and opens the door to reenter into the bar proper Hattie is standing in the middle of the room talking with a tall bulky redhead. The man had long braided hair and a long braided beard. The two talk in low whispers paying him little mind. Though Hattie throws him a glance as he walks over to the pool tables, she turns back though and continues her conversation. Eventually she tires of the man’s company and returns to Mace’s side.

“Are we leaving now? Did you get the Baron’s name? I hear that Baron’s eat children’s hearts for breakfast” the words pour out like a running faucet and she’s turning to the redhead and yelling across the empty bar “Sorry Fain” before turning back to look at Mace expectantly, scars twisting with her facial movements.

Mace stands there for a moment.

“Nope, never got her name.” Hattie has to pause, has to mangle her beast and shove it down to the depths of her stomach. Holds in her sigh and keeps from muttering that she wishes Silvia was here. She looks at Mace.

“That’s sad, but it’s okay, we have forever to figure it out” her face scrunches up in thought, scars making the facial actions distorted, “unless we get dusted first… then we don’t have forever.” She gives a laugh.

“Well at least you know that we aren’t immortal” the heavy man heaves and scans the room. “Let me go back downstairs and ask Stan.”

He turns from Hattie and walks back across the room, is halfway there when the redhead steps in front of him. Low, gravelly voice seeping out, Swedish accent lingering on the words. “You already talked to them, your turn is over. My Baron has waited their turn to speak with the new Baron of Waynesboro.” The taller man looks down on Mace, clinches and unclenches his hand.

Hattie noting the rising tension bounds over to the two and looks up at Fain, giving him a tired and exasperated smile, before turning to Mace, long blonde hair swinging with the movements. “He’s not wrong Mace, perhaps it would be wise to leave the Afton Baron and their watchdog alone.” It’s not phrased as a question or a request it’s an order, not that she thinks the man will pick up on it. She knows that Silvia has taken to having the man be followed by one of Jefferson’s cats or one of her mice, he’s become the Nos’ favorite kindred to complain about.

He doesn’t turn to face her, just continues to look at Fain. “I only ask for the name of the new Waynesboro Baron. I was only going to ask that question to Stan.” Hattie shakes her head and mouths ‘sorry’ to the Afton Enforcer.

“You came without knowing her name and left the same way?” Fain asks, large body shifting, he crosses his arms across his barrel chest. “In Afton we call her Freya, though newer kindred call her Hlin. Lexington’s brats know her as Bellona and Victoria.” They pause and glance around the room, eyes meeting Hattie’s “it is sad though that the Little Lion is not here” and Hattie has a startling realization that they are hiding in plain sight, is ecstatic  that they are safe, but bites her tongue so as to not give it away. If the two wanted Arista to know they were safe, they would have told her.

“And you are” Mace’s rough voice breaks through Hattie’s thoughts.

“Enforcer Fain of the Afton Anarchs.”

Mace puts his hand out “I’m Elder Mace of the Brujahs from Staunton.” Fain goes in and grips not Mace’s hand but his forearm and shakes before quickly pulling away, doesn’t want the man to think them friends.

“I hear that the Prince of Staunton will be attending the Hunt that Prince Khutulun is having this year. I look forward to seeing how she will fair against the others.” Fain glances at Hattie and smiles, hopes to see her in some of the events.

“I’m looking forward to watching the games, I’m not big on hunts unless it’s work” the square faced Brujah tells Fain who almost howls in laughs, but instead lets out a gruff chuckle.

“Ah, that’s sad there is going to be much going on. I am hoping that my Baron will enter me this year and let one of the pups stand guard. I miss being entered into the brawl and throwing events.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” Mace tells him face softening. “I’d rather stand guard in case Sabbat show up can want to ruin the party” and Hattie and Fain trade looks. They both know that any Sabbat would have to be absolutely bonkers to try and attack such a large gathering of Cainites.

“Ah, I always do fine when entered. I am not worried how I will fair, I always decimate the competition. It depends on how strong the pups are and the Baron’s faith in them.” Mace does not take it as the warning it is though. Instead he smiles.

“I’ll be watching, it was nice meeting you Fain. Hope we can talk some other time outside of business. Gotta get back to Staunton.”

“Of course Elder Mace, safe journey home.” He frowns and turns to Hattie offering the tall willowy woman a soft smile. “Good morning Hattie, may the moon always rise over your horizon.” She smiles back and pats his arm.

“Thank you Fain, I hope to see you in more than just the throwing and brawl this year. I want to see us go toe to toe in a hunt or capture game” Hattie grins, before turning to follow Mace out towards the beat up van that they used to get there. Hattie watches him climb into the van and then takes her seat.

“That was fun.” She comments watching Mace’s facial expression. He doesn’t turn to look at her, just keeps his gaze forward, forehead crinkling into worried facial lines.

“they are worse off than I thought.” He mutters.

Hattie tilts her head, “in what way?” she wonders if he picked up on Fain’s words the way that she did or if the man had paid little attention to the names and vernacular of his new state. She thinks on it and decided that he probably hasn’t, age does not always mean wisdom.

“Can’t say. Prince gets the info first, and if she allows it you can be in there with us.” He tells her and Hattie grins. She’ll get the information from Silvia.

“Oh, that’s okay. It’s Nice getting out of Staunton” Hattie tells him placing an arm on his shoulder.

“I can always tell you after.”

“Okay!” Hattie tells him and turns away from him to smile, her fangs had dropped at the thought of how careless the man is, of how trusting he is. Has to think about the quiet of her room before forcing her smile back and retracting her fangs. The rest of the ride is silent. She’ll take both sides please.

 


End file.
